Melt With You
by ChainOfPaperclips
Summary: When Regina Mills meets her match on the ski slopes, it's only a matter of time before they end up in bed together. But what happens when the vacation ends and reality sets in again? Outlaw Queen one-shot. Rated M for sex.


**A/N: My first Outlaw Queen fic, written for my dear friend, Anja. Happy birthday! :D I hope you like it!**

* * *

"Isn't this beautiful?"

Regina tucked the ends of her plum colored scarf into her jacket more firmly and glanced at her smiling companion. Blonde curls peeked out from under a cutesy snowflake-patterned azure beanie, a startling contrast to Tink's ruddy cheeks. A jacket of a similar retina-damaging blue, paired with hot pink snow pants made her best friend look like the worst sort of ad for winter wear. _Discount winter wear_, she thought with exasperated disdain. Muted, classic tones were more Regina's style, and her clothing choices often reflected that.

"Sure, if you like all that forest," she sniffed, gesturing slightly at the deep green strokes of color that intermittently painted the snow-covered mountains below them. Although the sight wasn't completely abhorrent to her, neither was it pleasant. Regina had never been much of an outdoorswoman, despite the efforts of her bubbly childhood friend to endear her to such rustic settings. A luxurious and hideously expensive spa was more Regina's speed. If not for many vacations her family had taken to their alpine chalet on weekends and vacations, and the pressure from her mother, Regina wouldn't even know how to ski at all. "I've never understood the attraction of it, myself."

"Well, we're here to ski, not camp," Tink argued reasonably, "so the offensive trees shouldn't ruin your vacation too much." A smile played around the corners of her mouth. "Try to have some fun while we're here, Regina. Happiness won't make you melt like the Wicked Witch."

"That witch was overrated," she muttered. "The Evil Queen was a much better villain. "

"Well, Your Evil Regal-ness, we're almost to the slope. Better get ready."

"I don't know why I let you talk me into this," Regina said without real rancor as she double-checked to make certain that none of her clothing was loose enough to catch on the lift when she exited it.

"Because you were desperate for a vacation, admit it," Tink told her as she made her own preparations.

"I admit to no such thing," she sniffed. "And even if I did need a vacation-which I do not-I certainly wouldn't time it right before re-election campaigns kick off, when there's so much to do."

Tink raised the safety bar and smiled at her, not fooled in the slightest. Regina frowned in annoyance. "Then why did you come," her longtime friend asked smugly. "I think it was because you knew that a relaxing vacation is just the thing you need before election season."

Regina exited the lift effortlessly, instinctively moving out of the way of other exiting skiers. Tink joined her. "And all of this," she said with a disdainful gesture at the snowy trail before them, "is supposed to relax me?"

"Tell you what, Regina," her friend began, "if you make it to the bottom of this trail, and your mind is still focused on work, I won't say another word. I'll leave you alone for the rest of the week. You can sit in the lodge sipping coffee and working over Skype with Sidney."

"Deal." She smirked.

"Great!" Tink pulled the protective goggles over her eyes. "See you at the bottom!" She pushed off, and Regina watched her disappear down the slope, her movements as natural and graceful as if she had been born with skis on her feet. Which, Regina thought wryly, was entirely possible, knowing Tink.

Pulling her own goggles down over her eyes, Regina checked the bindings of her skis one last time. An unfortunate incident involving a faulty binding during her childhood had left an indelible paranoia in Regina's mind, though thankfully it had happened on the bunny slopes, where injuries had been minimal. Still, ever since then, Regina made certain to have her skis checked and double checked by professionals, and never let a single piece of it out of her care for a moment. None of the children her parents' business associates often brought along on their joint vacations had been particularly fond of her, and Regina wasn't so certain it hadn't been done on purpose as a cruel and humiliating joke.

Really, she thought as she started down the trail, it was a miracle that Tink had been able to convince her to accompany her on this vacation at all. Regina still wasn't certain what in the world had possessed her, considering how much she hated skiing, and all the work that was left to do back at home-not to mention the time spent away from her son (never mind that this was his week with his newly-discovered birth mother). It certainly wasn't because she was tired of work. Regina lived for the bustle of activity and appointments that came with her position as mayor of the old-fashioned town of Storybrooke, Maine. According to Tink, this meant she was a crazed workaholic. Regina preferred to think of herself as focused and dedicated to her job.

"Ooof!" Something hit her from behind, pulling her from her thoughts as she tumbled into the snow. There was a flash of wavy black hair, and a harried apology, as the offending person tumbled farther down the slope past her. Regina lay immobile for a minute, dark thoughts forming in her mind. This was exactly why she loathed skiing. One way or the other, she ended up injured or miserable or both.

She sat up, muscles aching, and wiped the frigid wet snow from her face.

A shadow fell over her as she contemplated just what she'd like to do to the incompetent idiot who had done this, and Regina found herself looking up at a tall, muscled man with blond hair, well-trimmed facial hair, and the most irritatingly attractive grin she had ever seen in her life. "Milady," he said, offering her his hand to help her up.

Regina waved it away and carefully removed her pole straps, attempting to rearranging herself and her skis so that she could stand up again. "Aaah!" she cried as a sharp pain shot through her ankle, and she bit back an undignified curse, sinking into the snow again.

"You're injured," the strange man said. "Let me help you."

"I'm fine."

"Yes, I can see how fine you are," he replied with an amused smile.

Sensing that his words referred to more than just her stubborn refusal of help, Regina narrowed her eyes. "Even if I am injured, just how do you think you can help me?" she challenged. "I'll wait for a trained medic to evaluate me, thank you."

He chuckled. "Spirited and independent. I like that."

**-/-**

"You know," her best friend said after they settled in front of the fireplace at the lodge that night, Regina's injured leg elevated on the end of a coffee table, "if I didn't know how much you love winning, I might suspect that you had injured yourself on purpose, to get out of any more skiing."

Regina huffed sarcastically, blowing on the cup of decaf cappuccino that Tink had given her. "Yes, because my idea of a relaxing weekend involves falling face first in the snow and spraining my ankle."

Tink shrugged. "Well, you did meet that cute guy. So it wasn't all bad, was it?"

"I never said he was cute," Regina replied-just a little too quickly, it seemed, from the arch of Tink's eyebrow. "Anyway, he smells like forest."

"Ahhh," Tink said, sipping at her own cappuccino. She set it down on the coffee and settled back into the overstuffed couch. "Yes, given the way you feel about forests, I suppose that settles the matter." Her eyes sparkled with mirth.

"Just what are you trying to say?" she demanded, her posture stiffening under the other woman's gaze.

"I'm not saying anything," Tink replied innocently. "Absolutely nothing at all. The subject is completely closed about the way he couldn't keep his eyes off of you, or the fact that I haven't seen you this caustic and sarcastic before in my life."

"I'm sarcastic with everyone. What's your point?"

"Of course you are. It's your defense mechanism." Regina rolled her eyes at this assessment, but Tink ignored her and continued anyway, "And the more flustered you are, the worse it gets." She peered over at Regina smugly.

"That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard," she muttered, peering down at her beverage intently. She lifted the cup to her lips and busied herself taking a few more sips.

Tink giggled.

"What?" Regina lowered the cup, annoyed at being the butt of some secret joke.

"Well, it's just that-"

"Yes?"

"It's just that that's what you said when I confronted you about your feelings for Daniel. "

"And look what happened," she said darkly.

"Oh, come on, Regina. That was an accident. Out of anyone's control."

"Sure," she answered, staring into the flames of the crackling fire. But she had never been completely convinced that her mother, who had all but openly hated Regina's old boyfriend, hadn't been somehow responsible for spooking the horse that had trampled him to death. "An accident."

**-/-**

Regina scanned the draft of a proposed tax abatement program that Sidney had forwarded to her, feeling oddly restless and unfocused as she tried to work in the relative quiet of the ski lodge lobby. She glanced at her injured ankle, which was propped up on a table, convinced that this was the source of her problems. It was uncomfortable, sitting in such a fashion for such long periods of time, and yet...she lacked many other options. It was ironic, really, that now that she had the opportunity to do some work, sans judgment from her friend, she was actually accomplishing very little at all.

"Ah, we meet again." Regina looked up at the sound of the gratingly familiar voice, just in time to see her would-be rescuer from the day before sit down on the couch beside her. She rolled her eyes, and he smiled at her. "So," he said, his gaze shifting to her ankle with a smirk, "am I to take it that the trained medic you requested yesterday didn't share your diagnosis?"

She bristled. "I decided to stay back and take care of some work today, if you must know." He raised an eyebrow, the silence stretching between them for several beats before she grudgingly admitted, "Because I sprained my ankle." She narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you on the slopes?"

"I came back early to meet one of my mates for lunch." He nodded at her laptop. "What are you working on, if I may ask?"

"You may not," she sniffed.

He craned his neck, peering at the screen before she knew what was happening. "Excuse you!" she said indignantly, snapping the laptop shut. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Whoops. My neck slipped," he said, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "But it got you to put the work away, didn't it?"

Returning her laptop to its case, she glared at him. "I was nearly finished anyway," she insisted, reaching for her crutches. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment with a double martini that I'd like to keep."

"Well, then you've got yourself a drinking partner."

She tilted her head at him."I don't remember asking for one."

"You didn't."

Something about the sparkle in his eyes and the smile that threatened at the corners of his mouth felt vaguely familiar to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name. Have...have we met before?"

He stood up. "I doubt I'd ever forget meeting you."

Regina blinked, surprised at the compliment despite his apparent interest in her. Rattled, she was at a genuine loss for words, even sarcastic ones. _I wonder what Tink would have to say about that_, she wondered with mild amusement.

"Robin," he introduced himself.

"Regina," she offered in return.

"Well, then, Regina," he said lightly, "shall we have that drink?"

"All right," she agreed, "but just one. Don't expect anything else."

He picked up her laptop bag and slung it across his torso, saving her the awkward burden of managing it herself. She was both pleased and annoyed by this in equal measure.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

**-/-**

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baking pastries filled the air of the little café that Tink had selected for a breakfast that morning before they went their separate ways. Regina soaked in the familiar atmosphere, strongly reminded of a local diner in Storybrooke, Granny's, where she often stopped for a quick bite before heading in to the office. Stirring her coffee out of habit, she sipped at it absently, watching passersby through the window next to her.

"We really have to stop meeting like this."

Regina glanced up from the magazine she was perusing and found Robin standing next to her table, watching her with a smile. "Are you following me?" she demanded.

"Now, why on earth would I follow you?"

"You tell me."

"If I may?" He gestured toward the empty chair across from her.

She shrugged indifferently, and naturally he took that as an invitation. Regina pretended to read for several moments, every nerve singing with awareness as she felt him studying her. "Can I help you?" she finally asked, setting her magazine aside.

"You don't make friends easily, do you?"

"I beg your pardon!" she protested, more than a little disconcerted not simply by his question, but by his ability to read her. "What kind of a question is that? I don't even know you."

"Not yet, perhaps," he acquiesced, "but after last night, I'd say we're getting there."

"It's called conversation," she dismissed. "It's usually preferable to awkward silence when sharing a drink with someone."

"I see," he said, studying her again. "And do you usually tell people about your son over a casual drink?"

Regina stiffened as his barb, friendly though it was, struck true. "Is there a point to any of this?" she demanded.

"Yes."

"Which would be what?"

"I'd like to see more of you," he breathed, leaning in close. "A lot more of you."

"I just bet you would," she smirked with a toss of her head.

"Well, I wouldn't say no to that," he acknowledged with a grin, "but I was thinking more along the lines of dinner. Tonight."

She stared at him for a moment, fully prepared to refuse him, but when she opened her mouth, she emitted a different set of words entirely. "All right. See you at seven."

**-/-**

He laid her on the bed, the roughness of his scruff burning a trail down her neck with his kisses, and all Regina could think of was that her clothes felt far too confining. Robin seemed to sense her dilemma, for he began unbuttoning her blouse with one hand while he cradled her cheek with the other. It was familiar and loving, and Regina felt the oddest sense of déjà vu. Her thoughts drifted to Daniel, and she realized that she hadn't been touched by a man in quite this way in years.

Uncomfortable at where such a realization might lead, she worked the zipper of his trousers open. He smirked at her, the expression in his eyes aroused and approving as she cupped him through the material of his boxers. He parted her blouse, caressing a breast through the lacy black fabric of her bra. Regina had tried to tell herself that it hadn't meant anything when she put on her nicest lingerie during her preparations for the date that evening. Confidence was as much a matter of appearance as demeanor, and dressing attractively from the innermost layer to the outermost layer was a recipe for success that Regina had used for years.

So it had absolutely nothing to do with the sultry way he'd gazed at her across the little cafe table before he'd asked her to dinner that morning.

"Black is definitely your color," he hummed, sliding the blouse off of her shoulders.

She tugged at the buttons of his shirt. "But red is not yours." The fabric ripped open, and he shrugged free from its confines, revealing an impossibly sculpted chest that made her breath catch in her throat with surprise. She knew the man had had muscles, but she hadn't expected this. Running her hands across the smooth skin of his collarbone, her fingers trailed downward and then curled into his chest hair, as if she meant to hold on to him forever.

Disturbed by such an impulse, Regina let go and reached for his trousers again. Robin shifted before she had the opportunity, settling between her thighs. She felt his scruff burning against the sensitive skin of her thighs as he kissed and stroked his way up her leg. Quivering with anticipation as he pushed aside the fabric of her panties, she felt warm fingers slide across the pearl of her flesh. Pleasure, electric and heady, shot through her. Drawing in a ragged breath, she felt his teeth gently scrape against her skin as he took the strap of her underwear in his mouth. He peeled the undergarment away from her with a slowness that she sensed was designed to deliberately frustrate her, and try though she might, Regina was incapable of resisting it.

Bucking her hips up toward his mouth in silent demand, Robin chuckled. "Has anyone ever told you it's incredibly arousing when a woman knows exactly what she wants and isn't afraid to ask for it?" He lowered his head without waiting for a reply, and Regina felt the moist smoothness of his tongue slide across her flesh. She closed her eyes, gripping at the sheets on either side of her as he began to flick his tongue across her sensitive nub with ever increasing urgency. Tension coiled in her, tighter and tighter, her nerves singing with greed at the sensations he was evoking in her, until at last she flew apart.

Her orgasm came hard and fast, overwhelming her so that it was several moments before Regina realized that Robin had shifted upward again. He pinched the nipples of her breasts, setting off even stronger waves of pleasure than before. Drugged with passion, Regina watched in a daze as Robin shifted in the bed, removing his trousers and underwear simultaneously. She inhaled sharply at the sight of his throbbing erection. He was neither the smallest man she had ever been with, nor the largest, but he was definitely one of the most eager, she thought, the tip of his arousal slick and shining with pre-cum.

"Regina," he murmured, leaning over her, arranging himself carefully so as not to disturb or further damage her injured leg, "you are one of the most alluring, captivating women I have ever met." She raised her brow, startled by his compliments, and he grinned. "And now I am going to fuck you hard."

A thrill of anticipation jolted through Regina. _Thank God_, she thought. He wasn't going to treat her like glass during their coupling, just because of her injury.

He thrust into her with one fluid movement, and Regina gasped. "Oh, Regina," he breathed. "You are so perfect, so tight." He pulled out and then slammed into her again. "I am going to make both of us scream loud enough to frighten the hotel staff."

She raised an eyebrow. "Prove it," she challenged.

"I intend to."

And then, before she Regina could so much as form a reply, he was kissing her, consuming her, as he moved against her with increasing fervency. Regina's fingernails scraped a trail down his back as she squirmed restlessly beneath him as intense, white-hot pleasure swelled inside of her. "Robin," she sighed, only half-aware of what she was saying as he continued to slam in and out of her, "Yes, more," she moaned. "Harder, Robin."

Nipping at her earlobe, he winked at her and obliged, his face and limbs slick from his exertions. "Regina," he murmured, eyes capturing hers. Startled, Regina gazed up at him, unable to pry her gaze away as she fell apart in his arms again, his promise coming to life as she found herself crying out loud enough to make her throat hoarse. Robin followed her soon after, his exclamations of pleasure joining hers, and still his eyes never strayed from her own. It was very intimate.

And very frightening.

**-/-**

The rest of the week passed by in a blur of stolen moments and passionate sex, and before Regina knew it, she was sitting at the bar on her last evening at the lodge, indulging in a few drinks with Tink and trying very hard not to think about the blond-haired man she would be leaving behind tomorrow. She told herself she shouldn't miss him; they had barely known each other a week. But awareness that her life would never quite return to normal prickled at her, and she grew more and more sullen as the evening wore on.

"Regina, why don't you just give him your number?" her friend finally asked in a fit of exasperation. "You said it yourself that he travels quite frequently to Boston for business. That's within reasonable driving distance of Storybrooke-"

"No," she cut her friend off. "I have my career to think of. Henry."

"There's no reason why you couldn't have all three," Tink said reasonably. "If you would just open yourself up to the possibility of a happy ending-"

"Life isn't a fairy tale, Bella," she said harshly, using her friend's first name out of spite. "And even if it was," she snorted, "where's _your_ happy ending, Tinkerson? I can't remember the last time you went on a date."

"That was uncalled for, Regina," he friend chastised her with a hurt expression. "And I am going to excuse it only because you are very drunk." She laid some money down on the bar and stood up, grabbing her purse. "Don't fall down and injure your ankle again on your way back."

Regina watched her friend disappear with several quick strides, and felt a brief flash of guilt. Annoyed, she gestured toward the bartender, who was gathering up Tink's money. "Another martini, please."

**-/-**

"Good morning."

Regina started, whipping around to face Robin. "Oh, it's you," she said caustically as she recovered from the loss of her composure.

"You don't sound terribly happy about that," he observed.

She shrugged, looking away toward the lobby entrance as she waited for Tink to finish settling their bill. Regina had offered to pay in full as a means of apologizing for her behavior the night before, but Tink had refused, unwilling to allow Regina to assuage her conscience that easily.

_"If you're truly sorry, then say so," she lectured, "but don't try to buy me off." _

Regina had been practicing a proper apology in her mind, until Robin had appeared, scattering all of her thoughts. Damn him.

"What do you want?" she sighed.

"Well, considering the manner of week we spent together, I thought a proper goodbye was in order."

"Why?" she shrugged. "It was a fling. Nothing serious."

He frowned, studying her for several moments. "I see." Reaching over, he lifted her cell phone out of her purse with such swift nimbleness that it didn't even register with her for a moment.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" she demanded, seething with anger.

"Giving you a choice," he said, tapping the screen of her phone several times. He handed the phone back to her. "There's my number. If you decide you're interested in something more serious."

"Fat chance," she muttered to herself as he walked away. She had had something serious once. And it had only ended in horrific tragedy.

**-/-**

_Three months later..._

"Mom!" Henry called up the staircase. "Come on! We don't want to be late!"

Regina examined her reflection in the full-length mirror. She looked pale, despite the expertly applied makeup that she wore, and she felt as if she hadn't slept in days, when in fact she'd gotten more rest in the last seventy-two hours than she typically did in an entire week. Picking up a simple pair of silver hoops, she fastened the earrings in her earlobes and turned away. Pausing to slip a sweater over the simple but stylish black dress that she wore, Regina went to meet her son.

And promised herself for the thousandth time that she would be a much better parent to her son than her mother had ever been to her.

**-/-**

The funeral was well-attended, though few people in life could have ever claimed actual affection for Cora Mills, even her own daughter. No, Regina thought cynically as she stood with Henry and accepted the condolences and sympathy of what seemed to be every single person in Storybrooke, the large turnout was due to Regina's status as mayor. And that both hurt and pleased her, just as she had felt both relief and sorrow upon learning of her mother's death.

"Thank you," Regina said after Mother Superior expressed her sympathies and latched onto her in an unexpected and quite unwelcome hug. "Henry and I both appreciate it." She watched the dark-haired sister walk away and resisted the impulse to shake her head. They rarely, if ever, came down on the same side of an issue, having such different worldviews, and Regina had been amazed to find the nun and all her fellow sisters in attendance at the funeral.

"My condolences on the loss of your mother," a familiar voice said.

Regina wheeled around, startled, and came face to face with Robin. "Mom?" Henry said, looking from her to Robin. "Who's this?"

"Robin," he said, offering Henry a firm handshake. "I'm an acquaintance of your mother's. We haven't seen each other for some time."

"What-what are you doing here?" she managed.

"I've been in the area on business for the past few days, and I heard about your mother on the news. I thought to come pay my respects. I'm terribly sorry."

_Don't be,_ Regina thought. _She would have hated you, too._

Aloud, she said, "Thank you."

Offering her a brief smile, and a quick farewell to Henry, Regina watched for a moment as Robin walked over to Tink and struck up a conversation. Then she turned her back to him and greeted her next guest, suffering her condolences with fake, sugary politeness that left her wanting to scream. And then her mind switched over to cravings of a different sort of screaming altogether, and before Regina knew it, the long, awful day was over.

**-/-**

_One month after the funeral..._

Regina hesitated, staring at her cell phone, afraid and uncertain. "Go on," Tink urged, squeezing her shoulder for moral support, "Call him.

So she did.


End file.
